


Void

by Kheta



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Middle School, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Non-Graphic Violence, Ogiwara Shigehiro-centric, References to Depression, Teen Angst, awkward kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21954256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kheta/pseuds/Kheta
Summary: In another universe, it'd be Kuroko looking down guiltily at him, their hope equally shattered. In this universe, Ogiwara's cold amber eyes watch as Kuroko glances at him, betrayal evident on his face.(Also known as, someone stop me from changing literally something so very minor in a series and just thinking about the implication for 3000+ words. it happens waaay too often.)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Void

Kuroko moves away to the states when they're both a half-a-year away from graduating to middle school.

It is morning, they've been up since dawn and the autumn breeze is frightful in its force. The duo are at the courts near their house in clothes meant for winter, even though they should be at their separate schools. Ogiwara summarised their uncharacteristic defiance of authority to Kuroko's departure in a weeks time and Ogiwara's dreading of the day his best friend leaves him. In his dread, he dribbles the ball slowly and tries to wrap his head around his thoughts.

"So- you guys leave soon?" He means it like a question, but his tone of voice is resigned, already knowing the answer.

Kuroko doesn't reply, but his frown deepens. He continues to screen his taller friend, upping the pressure as to throw him off game, or attempting to, the duo were both off their game today.

Gulping, Kuroko replies to the kid he's know for the past few years. The brother he'd steadily made.

"Yeah- I guess I can't face you in an official match for a long time." His voice is soft and sorrowful, if not blunt.

With no amount of enthusiasm, Kuroko steals the ball from Ogiwara and goes for a lay up. Ogiwara screens him and takes the ball, aiming for a shot himself.

Feeling the lack of heart in their current conversation, Kuroko grabs the ball as it lands on the ground with a thud.

"Shige, can we forget about that for today?" Kuroko's voice is bland, but his eyes solemn.

Catching on to his best-friends desire, Ogiwara plasters a smile on his face and nods.

"Of course, Tetsuya," is his positive reply, eyes resolute yet warm.

Tetsuya grins back, open and radiating approval.

The simplicity of their friendship makes Ogiwara's smile real. It makes him forget and even though Kuroko would usually object to their blatant disregard of the school rules, would usually disapprove of them skiving off school, today is different. Today, despite being young and nervous kids, they keep playing.

Somewhere in-between the game, they forget about stupid things like scores and rules. Forget that if –that when- their parents find them, they're dead meat. There's only them, a ball and a court.

By the time the sun sets, in odd coincidental shades of cyan and dark-orange, they're both exhausted. They lay next to each other, watching the sun mix in shades that reminded them of one and another and finally Ogiwara's ready to farewell his best friend. His brother.

"You'll come back right?"

Kuroko makes a sound of agreement.

"Next time we play basketball, it's on an official court, in an official match," Ogiwara declares, holding his fist up.

Turning to smile at the boy he'd started thinking of as an unofficial brother, Kuroko tightened his fist and let them bump cautiously.

"Definitely."

They didn't need anything more to commemorate their friendship, they just needed a promise, like always.

_(Their parents are ready to wring their necks in by the time they get home, or at least they say they are. But everyone knows if their parents had really disapproved of their skipping school, they'd gone to get the duo long before they walked home.)_

* * *

Kuroko Tetsuya's departure isn't any less saddening, but at least they still had a promise to remember each other bye.

Their parents exchange emails and promise to contact each other with new numbers. It doesn't feel like the end he had been dreading.

* * *

Ogiwara Shigehiro's walking home when he meets another basketball freak to befriend.

It should be a perfectly ordinary day, but Ogiwara had taken the long way home. The reason is absolutely not the court that he'd been periodically avoiding and had no connection to his blue haired best friend. Or, he futilely argues this to his conscious as he makes his way home, unused to the gap where his friend occupied not even a week ago.

He's admittedly not paying attention, his head bowed and his thoughts running amuck. But, per usual, the sound of a basketball breaks his reverie.

He takes a glance up and his breath catches in his throat. The basketball sails through the air beautifully, arching perfectly into hoop with a thud. His heart beats and he continues watching the player, who soars through each movement in a way that eleven-year-olds like him shouldn't be able to do and Shigehiro does the first thing that comes to mind, he drops his bag and asked for a one-on-one.

A kid, who at most can't be even a year older than him gives him a nasty glance, turns his nose up at him and instead throws the ball with no amount of interest at the backboard. The ball hits the backboard and falls into the basket perfectly and the kid keeps quiet.

"Oi, c'mon one-v-one~" Ogiwara whines, despite being in his school uniform.

"Tch," the kid hisses out, before a smirk makes it's way onto his face,"fine, but don't go crying to mama when you lose," he finishes by throwing the ball into Ogiwara's waiting hands.

Glaring back, Ogiwara dribbles a little, then he moves forwards, the kid screens him and Ogiwara spins, takes a step back and does a three-pointer.

"First to ten," Ogiwara declares with a hint of mischief in his voice.

He smirks smugly at the narrowed eyes of his opponent and watches him carefully, seeing his eyes alight with ferocity.

The boy snickers heartily, before imitating his actions.

"First to fifteen buys the loser a popsicle," he says as the ball makes it into the hoop.

They play until the sun has fallen and continue playing until they both fall in exhaustion. It ends 15-11 in the other kids favour and as the sweat pours down his face, his breath laboured, uniform drenched and his face flushed, he smiles brighter than the sun; smiles in a way that makes the other boy's dark eyes widen.

"I'm- Ogiwara," he coughs lightly, before taking a deep breath," Ogiwara Shigehiro."

The other kids narrow his eyes, before smirking.

"Hn, you owe me a popsicle," he glowers, before extending his hand and helping Ogiwara to his feet.

Their hands are still gripping each other painfully and their faces come unbearably close to each other the longer they stand. Then the kid grins, it's dark, scary and- well, exciting.

"I'm Haizaki," he says flipping his messy grey hair," Haizaki Shogo."

That's the beginning of everything.

* * *

The next day Ogiwara walks the same route, even though it takes him fifteen minutes longer to get home, then he stops at the courts where the boy is again.

He hold the plastic bag with the two popsicles up, a grin on his face.

"Heh, rematch?"

Ogiwara throws a popsicle towards his new friend after requesting the rematch.

Haizaki smirks, tears the packaging and takes a bite.

"First to fifteen?" He asked mouth full.

"First to fifteen." Ogiwara agrees, bouncing the ball and eating his popsicle simultaneously.

* * *

It's better than any game he's ever been in, than any person he's ever faced. Haizaki's basketball is beautiful yet cruel, and the more games they plan, the more accustomed he becomes at ignoring Haizaki's rhythm. Together they up the score limits, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty. The games get longer and he better at ignoring Haizaki's rhythm, better at slowing the world down as he focus' on his own basketball. Finally four months after they started their daily games, Ogiwara wins.

The score is 30-28, they finish before the sun sets, a record time.

Grabbing a water bottle from his bag, Ogiwara is careful not to touch his school uniform, which is folded neatly in his bag.

He watches the clouds drift through the air and feels the bitter bite of winter, before taking a small gulp.

"Ne, Haizaki, which school are you going to next year?" His voice is soft and his breath shallow, his lungs now able to handle their one-v-one games.

Haizaki takes the drink in Ogiwara's hands without asking, uncaps the lid and drinks without letting the bottle touch his lips. He replies after a long pause.

"Teikou," he's gazing at somewhere beyond the horizon.

A sigh of contentment leaves Ogiwara's mouth.

"Teikou-huh?"

They sit in silence until the sun begins to set, then they both make their way home with no other words.

* * *

Everyday after school, they continue their games, wearing their sports clothes beneath their school uniform. It had been an on-going competition on who could win the most amount of games since Ogiwara's first win. The newest tally as of late was 21-18 to Haizaki, irritatingly enough. His muscles that had ached months prior were now accustom to their games.

It's one of these seemingly random days, as Ogiwara successfully manages to steal the ball from a smiling Haizaki that he realises something.

He liked playing basketball with his school team, but he loved playing basketball against Haizaki. Too lost in thought, he doesn't notice the way Haizaki steals the ball until the ball isn't in his grasp anymore.

Grinning idiotically, Ogiwara calmly taps the ball from Haizaki. Though Haizaki doesn't let the cheap shot through long enough for Ogiwara to steal the ball. Narrowing his eyes, Ogiwara leaps forward, screening Haizaki efficiently. Then following the beat of Haizaki's dribbles, he subtly makes his way forward, only allowing Haizaki to notice him in the second before he snatches the ball from Haizaki.

Ogiwara dribbles the ball back to the half line, swerving around Haizaki as he ran forward, successfully executing a layup. Only when the ball touches the ground and Haizaki is facing him, does Ogiwara voices his past revelation.

"Ne, Haizaki, I really like playing basketball with you."

Sweat gleams down Ogiwara's face and panting slightly, Haizaki replies with a wide mouthed, narrow-eyed and plain infuriating facial.

"Of course- Who wouldn't like playing basketball against me?"

Haizaki doesn't lose focus despite looking cockily at Ogiwara, only losing sight of him when he'd already stepped past Ogiwara. He does a quick jump shot, smirking as the ball hit the ground. It's habitual for him to swipe the ball, dribbling softly. Ogiwara replies, comforted by the beating of the ball against the ground.

"Geez, you really are troublesome Haizaki."

A tick appears on Haizaki's forehead, but he says nothing, only going to block one of Ogiwara's jump shot. He manages to wrestle the ball from Ogiwara's hand, then turns as he touches the ground, he does a jump throw, the ball goes higher into the air, arching towards the hoop. They both realise quickly that the ball won't quite reach the hoop. They move together but Haizaki is quicker as he spins past Ogiwara, catches the ball before it could touch the rim of the the hoop and does a hook shot to Ogiwara's amazement.

Stars appears in Ogiwara's eyes at the great performance.

"Nice shot, Haizaki-kun."

Haizaki grins as he reaches the ground, his eyes shining as well.

"It was nothing," he lies, obviously proud of his shot.

Before Haizaki could come up with some half-hearted, humble-yet-obviously-not-humble comment, Ogiwara asked something that caused his proud blush to appear several times deeper.

"Na~ Haizaki are we friends?"

The question catches the oblivious athlete off guard as he trips, rambling about one thing or another.

"W-w-what!? What's with asking such embarrassing things so openly?"

"Eh, embarrassing?"

He says confused and Haizaki glares at him, pushing down a blush.

"Che–" They enjoy a brief yet comfortable silence before Haizaki finally answers,"I guess so."

Nodding contently, Ogiwara smiles at Haizaki, now certain on the school he wanted to attend.

* * *

Teikou is a huge school and Ogiwara feels awkward there. But he and Haizaki have the same homeroom class, they finally hang out without playing basketball or eating and it's fun.

Everything is fun, until basketball trials.

It should be so easy, to prove that he's good enough. To show them a basketball worthy of Teikou's attention. But he fails. He fumbles and sweats and his game is all over the place. Even so, despite the awful play he still hopes.

He still believes, that maybe. Possibly, he could get first string.

"...and lastly, Murasakibara Atsushi, now for the second stringers..."

But, he doesn't get it; he's a second string and he should be happy. That's an achievement in itself, a first year getting second string was so difficult, but he's not happy.

His heart smashes.

* * *

There's a slight blur between practices, games against Haizaki and Nijimura-senpai confronting him. Ogiwara can only clearly remember the confrontation.

He's practicing alone after school in the third stringers gym, because they always skipped out early.

He's currently attempting to shoot a fade away, but like most of his hits lately it doesn't land and he ends up falling over again. Yet he keeps trying, because he needs to be better, better than Akashi, Aomine and Midorima, because he wasn't enough. Ogiwara needs to get better, because he still feels so incompetent and– shit, the ball hits the rim, but it doesn't get in.

Again. Again. Ten more, just a little more he tells himself every time he falls. Five more. Three. Then finally, two weeks of practicing is worth it, because the ball makes it. Ogiwara ankle twists as he lands, but the ball landed in the hoop and the adrenaline blocks out the pain.

He wants to smile, but he needs to remember this feeling, needs to relish it.

Swiftly, he goes to copy his stance, despite the vague throb in his leg.

When suddenly a sharp pain is coursing through his back and he gasps, falling to the ground.

"What are you doing you idiot!?"

A familiar voice calls out, but his answer is muffled by the gym floor.

Instead of taking pity on the obviously struggling first-year middle schooler, the perpetrator bends Ogiwara's knees to him. If Ogiwara wasn't as flexible as he was, that position would've seriously hurt him.

"O-o-oi, get off me!" Ogiwara struggles to scream out.

"No! How could you do something so foolish!? That was a good fade away, but you were willing to ruin your whole ankle to replicate it! You shouldn't even learn shots like that for another two years newbie!"

"I- get- urgh!- it, jus' get'off me!"

The senior, because only an upperclassmen would do that, gets off of him and Ogiwara prepares to scream at him, when his words get stuck in his throat.

"C-captain.."

The captain glares down at him and Ogiwara feels smaller than he'd ever been.

"What were you thinking, you idiot?"

Under the force of his upperclassmen's glare, Ogiwara can't find it in himself to lie.

"I- I need to get better, the way my basketball is now, I'll get left behind...If I don't get better..." _Then how can I play on the same team as Haizaki-kun,_ he thinks unable to voice the rest of his ideals.

A swift bonk to the head is the answer of his captain.

"Don't push yourself, you have time, we both do- Needlessly hurting yourself won't make you a better player."

Those words echo in Ogiwara's head for a long time.

That day when he leaves the gym, per usual a sweating Haizaki is still there in his funky smelling gym clothes and his half-hearted smile and they leave for the courts, playing easy one-on-one games and it's fun.

* * *

He makes first string during the monthly evaluations, mid-way through the year, some three and a bit months since the conversation with Captain. Four of his senpai have quit out of the team, two demoted to second string and one, Akira-senpai, was injured during an away game a few weeks ago. No one is certain if he'll be able to play again, but he'd said his goodbyes like a diligent third year and offered everyone a polite smile as he resigned. With his resignation, there's seven spots to fill, he and three other upperclassmen get the spots. It's the happiest day of his young middle school life.

During the end of the day, he decides to do something he hadn't done in a while. Sweat dripping down his face, stomach twisting and smile everlasting, he leans against his lockers watching as everyone else prepared for a shower before they left. Him and Haizaki never changed or took showers, always having a game before making their ways home to freshen up, even on the days their muscles screeched in protest. The latest tally was 83-74 to Haizaki.

"Yo, are you coming?" Haizaki asked, bag strapped around his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna make a quick call," he answers, pulling his flip-top cell from his pocket and dialling the newly memorised number.

The harsh, unfamiliar words meet his ears as he makes his call, English but barely placeable, _"Hello, Tetsuya here, please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you."_

He waits until the beep sounds, the only familiar thing about his rare phone calls to Tetsuya.

"Yo, Tetsu, I made the first string, wahooo!" He yelled into the receiver.

"Anyway, call me back or email, bye."

Haizaki eyes him suspiciously, but doesn't say anything and they leave, crimson eyes watching them curiously.

* * *

After getting promoted Ogiwara realises three things.

One, he's gonna die an early death due to overexertion.

Two, if not overexertion than he'll die by the sheer craziness of the first string.

Three, Haizaki acts like a real jerk in front of the first string.

One and two he doesn't really mind, he'd signed himself up for this anyway, but number three really gets to him.

Given how long they've known each other and going off of the fact that Haizaki had met his family and he'd met Haizaki's, Ogiwara likes to think he's something of Haizaki's best friend. If not that way, then Haizaki was definitely one of his best friends and as much as he skived off classes and teased kids, he was never a bad student. Unpredictable? Unmotivated? Yes, but bad, no.

So Ogiwara couldn't understand why he was so– so barely there in practice even as one of the regulars. Haizaki had played more seriously against him at street ball than he had in any other game Ogiwara has managed to watch and that annoys him.

The other first years were ridiculously talented yes, and compared to some of their seniors Haizaki was still an excellent player, but it was as if he held back during matches, official or not and Ogiwara didn't know why. He'd tried to confront the boy about it during class or at their daily after practice games, but Haizaki always pointedly ignored his questions with a glare and a cold attitude.

Today was going to be different though, Ogiwara swore to it.

He'd cornered Haizaki as they were leaving practice, nonchalantly trying to position them so he couldn't shove him away if it came down to it.

"Why don't you take being a first stringer seriously?"

Ogiwara's question is to the point, he'd never been one to pull his punches. Haizaki deflects and ignores and taunts; he does what Haizaki does best and that fills Ogiwara with fury. For all his manipulative and bad-boy bravado, Haizaki was one of the simplest people ever, this cruel mask he held hadn't been used on Ogiwara in months. Since before Teikou.

"Stop avoiding the question, you can answer it easily, just tell me why."

Something like anger and betrayal and vulnerability, all hidden behind frustration flash across his face, too fast to fully discern.

"Tch, it's none your damn business," he curses lightly, trying to elbow his way forward and away from the wall.

Placing his hands on either side of his best friends head, he leans forward and feels so bitterly angry, because Haizaki had it all. The looks, the talent and the uncharacteristic charisma that made girls flock to him and boys envy him. All Ogiwara had ever had was a reliable body and unwavering determination.

"I don't get it," he says quietly, ", I don't get why you'd hide it, I've seen your basketball, it's beautiful and deadly, not the cheap thing you use in practice or during games, I've memorised your basketball and it's scary good, but you never try in games, you lose your focus, your confiden-"

A sudden blow to his jaw interrupts him, sharp and precise that his head whips to the side and his arms fall to his side.

"Just shut up," is Haizaki's venomous reply.

Anger courses through him and he shoves Haizaki against the wall, using all of his strength so he couldn't easily push him off.

"No, I won't. I won't because I don't understand how you can be so ungrateful. You've got everything Haizaki, you play like a damn pro, but you don't care, how can you be so selfish!" His words are bitter and something like envy coils in his stomach.

Haizaki's face contorts into anger and betrayal, with remarkable strength he pulls his body forward, head butts his best friend and as Ogiwara starts to fall, he brings his fist back and punches him repeatedly.

It's a painful flurry of hits, punches, kicks. Ogiwara's never been in a fight but he knows the motions, follows through with them heavily.

"Coach! Anyone help me!" A voice screams, hands grabbing and they keep pushing forward, keep hoping to hurt someone.

Ogiwara's a simple guy, always has been. But right now he is a complex series of hate and anger. A special kind of fury that leaves him breathless and hurt and even with Aomine and Captain holding him back, he surges forth a roar of anger.

"You're so selfish Haizaki! Just answer my goddamned question!"

"Just. Leave it. Alone! Okay! Just shut the fuck up and go piss off into goddamned sunshine and rainbow world!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You are, you fucking asshole. So what!? Not everyone lives with their heads in the clouds! Not everyone is honest or optimistic! So stop pretending like they are and stop pretending that you know shit about me."

Ogiwara feels himself halt at the declaration and he wordlessly shrugs everyone off him, grabbing his bag and leaving.

He wants to cry. Instead the anger leaves him tense, wound up.

* * *

They win nationals that year, he gets to play in two games, Haizaki is rarely ever the starter but he always plays at least one half of the game.

He hasn't talked to Haizaki in a little over four months, nothing beyond forced words by their Captain or teachers. His stomach twists wildly, the loneliness of not having a someone with him everyday reminiscent of when Tetsuya left.

It's selfish, but he badly wants Tetsuya back. Wants someone in the least, because Ogiwara needed to be needed. It's how he survived.

But Haizaki never comes back and Ogiwara is a bitter, stubborn person. No matter how much he misses his best friend, apologising to him seems like a weakness, seems impossible to do. Plus, he reasons as the months go on, if Haizaki ever gave a damn about their friendship, he'd apologise as well.

* * *

"Hi, I'm Kise Ryota please care for me." The tall blonde bows before the team.

Later as he practices alone, always alone in this too huge club, Momoi approaches him with a polite smile and simple request.

Looking to the intense stare of amber eyes, Ogiwara feels nothing more than the need to scream at the cocky rookie. His blood boils. There's nothing wrong with Kise, not beyond the fact that he obviously knows he's top shit and it grates on all of Ogiwara's nerves because he's worked hard to be as good as he is and Kise doesn't know anything about it. Kise exuded raw potential. Ogiwara had worked his butt off this entire year to be so good, to shoot so well, weigh so little, run so far.

When they finally let Kise play against the first string and one of Ogiwara's ankle breaks (Sloppy, slow, unrefined) gets through, puts the arrogant blonde on his knees with stunned orbs and a breathless gasp, some small part of him fills with joy.

If he meets Haizaki's gaze unconsciously, if a grin spills from his face fonder than just a successful tactic against an opponent warrants and his heart flutters with appreciation to see admiration in usually cold eyes. Well... That truly isn't anyone's business.

That afternoon Tetsuya texts him but too tired from practice, he never manages to type a reply. By the time he remembers about the message, it's too late in the night for him to finish typing a reply, because with every typed letter he falls further and further until only sleep greets him.

* * *

Haizaki quits basketball one day. No one knows why. No one asks the surly teen. And Ogiwara watches his old friend sometimes between classes, sees darkening rings under glinted eyes, an ugly splatter of green-blue bruises on his arms and wonders but never asks himself.

It's around here he stops calling Kuroko first.

* * *

Teikou plow their way through the national board with ease, he stars in seven of the ten games, makes an astounding six percent increase for his shots, mostly lay-ups and three-throws. No one, not even Aomine who moves to the beat of his own twisted drum can catch him on his best days. He's always been light on his feet, now that he can actually control the speed of his hands to match, there's no one who can really stop him.

Third year comes in with a sweep of new classmates and pressure to apply for great schools. No matter how hard he looks, Ogiwara can only ever see a phantom of light grey hair. Haizaki is enrolled in Kise's class currently, but if his former friend makes an appearance it is only ever briefly, never long enough to be spotted by the amber eyes that had once only been filled with admiration, with awe. His parents, who have always loved him and consulted him about everything, begin to fight.

* * *

"Ogiwara nice shot!"

"Ogiwara-kun! Please shoot for me!"

"Ogiwara-senpai, good one!"

He gets good. Ridiculously good and he hates it. He has worked so hard for this, worked to earn a place on the first string, is Vice-Captain for fuckssake and he doesn't like it. Every game that pasts makes him feel emptier and emptier because there's a hole, a human sized gap next to him that's supposed to be filled with laughter and support and good natured ribbing. It's been nearly half a year and even now Ogiwara can't find it in himself to talk to his ex-best friend, can only be filled with an apathetic rage as he continues a game he's learnt to despise.

Akashi and he never got along, if only because Akashi's properness had been a major deterrent. Since Akashi's fight with Midorima about who he chose as VC and the terrifying addition of a golden eye– which, thanks Murasakibara– they've gotten along worse. There's no game where Akashi isn't trying to threaten, trying to posture Ogiwara into submission. No game where Ogiwara doesn't fly across the court to get away from his asshole team mates. Even the ones he liked, Momoi and Aomine, are both stubborn and resigned and are teenagers supposed to feel so very damaged? Midorima doesn't play shogi with Akashi anymore, Kise doesn't sing or invite anyone to karaoke or even goes by himself and Murasakibara stops baking.

Kuroko calls him a lot more often. He barely answers the phone. Barely talks. Ogiwara aches for friendships, but can't bring himself to maintain one. It's not worth it. Striving, wanting, fighting for anything feels like too much of a hassle. It strikes him, how weird it feels to remember how happy and determined and wanting he was just a few short years ago.

The promise he made to play Kuroko feels worn and unfulfilling now.

Sometimes he misses Nijimura-senpai, if only for how whole and unbroken the team was before his departure.

* * *

He and Akashi get into an argument the day before the finals. His parents are thinking of splitting up and Ogiwara just feels so empty. There's no friends to cheer for a group of people that slaughter every opponent they come across.

They wrote an article about them, The Generation of Miracles apparently. Clear prospect for first place in the spring tournament.

It touches on their skills, briefly. Kise's ability to copy everything, Midorima's threes, Murasakibara's defence, Aomine's freestyle and Akashi's frankly terrifying way of ripping his opponents apart, that their school newspaper refer to as an 'keen leadership skills'. Ogiwara reads it after a shower, hunched in the Teikou locker rooms after everyone is gone. He never in his life would have hoped to be in an article, for any reason. Behind all the flattery and pretty words though, he can see what they truly think of him. Fast, basic and stubborn with none of the extraordinary qualities his teammates had.

It's surreal.

His mum would be happy, if she had gotten wind of it. Kuroko would have teased him for it, but kept the article pinned to the board above his bed. Ogiwara reads it and can't stop the tears that fall hysterically down his face.

He hates basketball.

Hates his teammates.

Hates the way Haizaki hides from him.

Hates Kuroko for not hating him.

Most of all, he hates Teikou. Wants to be as far away from this dreaded school as soon as possible.

* * *

Murasakibara wants the board to read all ones and at this stage, Ogiwara can't produce any sort of surprise or anger or disappointment. It's easier to just let them have their fun.

They put him on in the last five minutes, because Aomine's bored and Midorima's two seconds away from hitting him with a basketball.

Everything in life is bland and grey and empty, so when the numbers get down to five seconds and the Meikou captain trips over thin air, he steals the ball midair. He knows what he's doing, slides his foot back far enough to shoot into a fade away that soars through the air of the Meikou hoop.

The numbers flash one, one, one, one, one. Murasakibara smiles at him coldly, like they're friends or something more than people who have shared the same space for three years.

Meikou's captain looks at the board, broken and devastated just like Ogiwara so often feels in the late of the night.

Across the floor, he catches the gaze of wide, familiar teal eyes. They water in disbelief, broken, betrayed and disorientated, unable to fully discern the situation. Ogiwara's cold amber eyes watch as Kuroko glances at him, betrayal evident on his face. He watches his friends face, wider and longer than the last time he'd seen it. Part of him wants to feel ashamed, to feel the wrongness that Kuroko obviously feels. Instead he feels disconnected from the event entirely.

Cyan eyes pierce him, but he shrugs it off slowly, purposely, grabbing his bag to leave the stadium, no matter what Akashi has in store for them.

Ogiwara's done with this stupid team and this stupid game and this stupid school. The sooner he graduates, the better.

Everything is loud around him, the people crowded together, shoulder to shoulder. In this crowd he disappears.

Not a Miracle, not a Prodigy, not a Friend with a Promise. Just another faceless, lifeless body in the void.

**Author's Note:**

> lolololololol
> 
> probably a lot of mistakes. could not handle reading through this to fix it up, wrote the majority of it when i was like 15 and then it chilled in my drafts for many many years before i decided fuck it and finished it, with the roughest editing because i just cringed a lot. hope someone enjoys this more than i did lololololol
> 
> hai te wā fams


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